


Time Out

by orphan_account



Series: Of Monsters and Martin [14]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, Imprisonment, M/M, Oral Sex, Possible Dubious Consent, Spanking, Trans Martin Blackwood, Unhealthy Power Dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:08:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24618106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Peter leaves Martin in the Lonely to teach him a lesson. Martin has to prove he can be good before Peter lets him back out.(The Lonely)
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Peter Lukas
Series: Of Monsters and Martin [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1776565
Comments: 3
Kudos: 57





	Time Out

**Author's Note:**

> The word cunt is used for Martin’s anatomy.

It had been a week since Martin was allowed to leave the fog.

He didn’t feel tired, or hungry, or thirsty. He didn’t have to use the bathroom. The only reason he knew how long it had been was that Peter checked in on him every day, standing over him and asking him if he was ready to be good. Every day Martin would say yes, he was sorry, he could be good, but Peter would shake his head and repeat that he didn’t sound ready.

This wasn’t the first time Peter had sent Martin to the Lonely. The first time, it had been for mouthing off when Peter asked him to record a statement. He’d been kept there for three days, and Peter only brought him out after he’d dropped to his knees and grovelled at Peter’s feet. Peter had stroked his hair, whispered that Martin was a good boy, _his_ good boy, and how he expected Martin to behave himself from then on.

The second time had been for flinching when Peter touched him.

Martin had noticed Peter starting to get more touchy with him. It had started with gentle pats on the shoulder, then stroking his hair, and then Peter resting his hand on Martin’s back as he recorded statements. The touch that had made Martin flinch, though, hadn’t come during a statement. Martin had been in the bathroom, staring distantly at himself in the mirror and trying to get his unruly hair to stay out of his eyes, when Peter had come up behind him and placed his hand on the small of Martin’s back. Martin jumped, more out of simple surprise than actual discomfort with the touch, but Peter had been upset.

He never shouted at Martin. Martin would’ve almost preferred that to the solitary torture of the Lonely, but Peter always kept his voice calm and gentle. He’d asked Martin why he didn’t like that touch (“it just surprised me, sir”) and if he had anything to say for himself (“I’m sorry, sir”), but Peter was having none of it. He took Martin by the hand and led him out of the bathroom, into the fog of the Lonely, and Peter sat him down on the cold metal chair. Martin remained there for a day, hugging his knees to his chest and closing his eyes and trying to drift off to sleep just so he could be somewhere else until Peter came back. Martin knew what to do this time. He dropped to his knees at Peter’s feet. He clasped his hands together, sobbing and begging and promising Peter he’d be a good boy, he’d be such a good boy if Peter just let him out. Peter had looked down at him for an agonizingly long moment before undoing his trousers and pulling out his cock.

It had hung there, huge and half-hard and inches from Martin’s face.

“Are you going to be a good boy?” Peter had asked.

“Yes, sir, yes, I’ll be such a good boy, please-”

Peter had grabbed him by the hair and pushed his cock into his open mouth. Martin had known exactly what to do. He closed his lips around it and sucked, taking the thing deep into his throat, dutifully sucking until Peter finished. Martin didn’t have to be told to swallow.

This time, Martin was being punished for talking about Jon.

Jon was a sore subject for Peter. Martin suspected it was because Peter knew he had feelings for Jon, and he was jealous in some weird way. Martin was only allowed to talk about Jon when Peter brought him up, and even then if he talked about Jon in a remotely positive way Peter would shake his head and give him that look that sent dread crawling up his spine. He certainly wasn’t allowed to speak with Jon, and his interactions with Jon were to be kept at a minimum. It was Martin’s mistake to wonder if Jon was doing alright, and when Peter asked him why he cared he couldn’t give an answer. The answer, of course, was “because I love him,” but Martin knew he’d already earned Peter’s anger and he didn’t want to make it worse.

When Peter came into the Lonely each day to check on him, Martin did everything he could to show Peter he was a good boy. He got on his knees, he nuzzled at Peter’s crotch, he whimpered and whined about how sorry he was and practically every other word out of his mouth was “sir”. None of it was good enough for Peter. Every day, he shook his head, then turned and walked away, leaving Martin a sobbing mess on the ground.

Nothingness was, truly, one of the worst punishments Martin could imagine. He had a lot of time on his own, so he thought a lot about other ways Peter could’ve punished him. Martin wasn’t a fan of shouting, but he’d have taken hours of shouting over another day in the lonely at that point. Being hit seemed severe at first, but the more Martin thought about it, the more he realized he sort of liked that idea. Other forms of injury would certainly be worse, but Martin honestly didn’t think Peter had it in him to cut or burn him. And if Peter were to kill him… well, Martin honestly wouldn’t complain. He had thought letting himself into the Lonely would be a good way to die, after all.

Martin figured he’d have to do something drastic. He’d have to show Peter just how good he could be, just how devoted he was to him. He’d have to offer Peter something he just couldn’t pass up. Something more enticing than a blowjob.

Martin took off his shirt, folded it neatly, and set it down next to the chair. He did the same with his shoes and socks, and finally with his trousers. The metal of the chair was cold against his thighs, so Martin decided to keep his underwear on, at least until Peter arrived.

He saw Peter’s eyes widened as he emerged from the fog, his eyes locking on Martin’s exposed body.

“Oh, Martin, dear boy,” Peter sighed. He stroked a hand over Martin’s hair, and Martin nuzzled against his hand. “What have you done now?”

“It’s for you,” Martin explained, looking up at Peter and tugging at the waistband of his underwear. “To show you how good I can be.”

“Are you being good?” Peter asked. “Or are you teasing me? Or, maybe, are you hoping you can guilt me into letting you out by showing off your pretty body?”

“No,” Martin said, shaking his head. “I just wanna be good for you. Let you do whatever you want to me. I just want to show you what a good boy I can be. Please, sir.”

“Whatever I want, hm?” Peter said. “You know I can’t resist an offer like that. If you’re really going to be that good for me…”

“Yes, sir, I’ll be so good.”

“Alright. First order of business, lose the pants. I want to see you.”

Martin stood up and quickly removed his underwear. He then dropped immediately back down to his knees, looking up at Peter expectantly.

“You want to show me what a good boy you are?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You want me to punish you for the awful, awful thing you did to show me that you’re a good boy?”

“Yes, sir.” Martin felt like it was a trap. He had a nagging sense at the back of his head that Peter was about to leave him in the Lonely, that was his punishment after all. He pressed his face against Peter’s muscular thigh, rubbing against him like a kitten for that tiny bit of physical contact.

“Come on,” Peter whispered, grabbing Martin by the hair and gently tugging him to the side. “I want you on your hands and knees for me. Can you be a good boy and do that?”

Martin nodded, dropping to his hands and knees, holding his ass proudly in the air. He knew what was coming, and he only yelped a little when Peter’s hand came down hard on his ass. Peter rubbed the sore spot for a moment before bringing his hand down again, on the other side this time. Martin found himself enjoying it. He had been thinking about Peter hitting him, and he’d decided he wouldn’t mind being spanked. He really hoped Peter let him out after this, though. The idea of having to sit in the hard metal chair with his ass all sore and bruised was not exactly pleasant.

Peter spanked him ten more times, five on each side. Martin had whined with every impact of his hand, and the whines had slowly turned to moans, and by now he was horribly wet and dripping down his thighs. Evidently Peter noticed, as he reached down between Martin’s legs and stroked his fingers over his cunt. Martin shivered.

“You liked that, did you?” Peter said softly.

“Y-yes, sir,” Martin said.

“Ah, well. Still felt good to do that. I can’t wait to see how the bruises come in. You will show me, won’t you?”

“Yes, sir. You can even watch them form if you like. Just let me lay in your lap and look at the bruises all over my ass.”

“Oh, don’t you tempt me,” Peter said. He kept on dragging his fingers over Martin’s cunt, and Martin was aching with need.

“Are you going to fuck me, sir?” he asked.

“I think I may,” Peter replied. Martin heard him unzip his trousers. He imagined Peter’s cock, he remembered how lovely and thick it had been in his mouth, he thought about how it would feel inside him and moaned.

“How long have you wanted me to fuck you, Martin?” Peter asked. He pressed a fingertip into Martin’s cunt, but it was hardly enough. Martin whined.

“Since… since I saw your cock. The second time you punished me, I saw it and it was so big and it felt so good in my mouth and I just couldn’t stop thinking about it and… _please,_ sir, I want it inside me.”

“It is lovely, isn’t it?” Peter said. “How about I let you have it? Think you can be a good boy if I let you take my cock?”

“Yes, sir, absolutely.”

“Good. Lay down on your back for me.”

The floor of the Lonely was unlike anything Martin had ever felt. It was soft like carpet, but also cold like tile, and it was faintly damp like the outside of a glass of water. It wasn’t exactly pleasant to lay on, but he didn’t mind. He closed his eyes and waited for Peter to push his cock into him. It came slowly, just the tip at first, making Martin whine and beg for more. Peter shushed him, and Martin obediently quieted down. Slowly, gradually, Peter thrust deeper and deeper into him until his cock was buried down to the base. It was beautifully large and it filled Martin perfectly.

Peter’s movements were slow and gentle. Martin didn’t know why that was surprising, he certainly hadn’t expected Peter to be especially rough, but given Peter’s size and his apparent proclivities for dominance it surprised Martin that he was so graceful. It was a little slower than Martin might’ve liked at first, but once Peter was all the way inside of him it was perfect. He rocked gently in and out, never quite pulling back enough to make Martin feel empty, and eliciting soft little mewls of pleasure from Martin the entire time.

Martin reached up and grabbed onto Peter as he came, pulling him down on top of him. He’d done it without thinking, but Peter just sighed in his ear as he finished and then laid on top of him, his clothed body oddly cold against Martin’s bare skin.

“Was I a good boy?” Martin asked.

“Yes,” Peter whispered. “You were a very good boy.” He pressed a gentle kiss to Martin’s forehead. Martin shut his eyes, and when he opened them the fog had disappeared and they were lying on the floor of what had once been Elias’s office. Martin didn’t want to get up, and it felt like Peter wasn’t going to make him. He stayed laying on top of him, pressing feather-light kisses onto his cheeks and forehead, until Martin drifted off to sleep for the first time in over a week.


End file.
